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there’s blood in my mouth ’cause i’ve been biting my tongue all week

we do date-type things, i suppose. we drink a lot of liquor, we go out together with friends, we go dancing, we’ve been out for breakfast once, we have sleepovers just about every night, he’s even made me breakfast in bed.

we send each other silly texts throughout the day, here and there… he let’s me know what he’s having for lunch, he tells me about his work out, or how he’s about to bbq a whole bunch of meat. it’s nice to know that throughout the 9-10 hours i spend in the office, just about every single time my phone vibrates, i know it’s going to be B.

almost every single night on my way home from work, i receive this text:
“movies? back rubs? sex? sleepover?”

i go home, shower, change, and walk the few blocks to B.’s house. he always answers the door with “ugh! as if you still knock! that’s silly!”. i wave to his roommates, and we walk down the hall to his bedroom. we both immediately take off our pants, he puts on a movie, and then we hop into bed. he normally hops ontop of me, runs his hands through my hair, kisses me on the mouth, and then repeatedly gives me tons of little kisses all over my face- “how was your day?”, he asks, as he lays his head on my chest.

like clock-work.

the thing is this: i never expected anything to happen with B…

i saw him dancing at the bar one night- wearing a cowboy shirt, with his hair slicked back into a pompador. he kissed me that night, asked me for my number, and sent me a message telling me i was cute. not even a week later we were having sleepovers every night.

it’s not like i look for these things to happen, and in all honesty i normally give them up after a few days or weeks out of sheer boredom. but the difference here is, i actually care about B.

yep… i said it!

somewhere in the depths of my ass-hole heart, there’s a tiny little spot for B.

a spot for his cowboy shirts and baseball jerseys. for his hilariously ridiculous tattoos and elvis paraphernalia. his obsession with dinosaurs and hillbilly music. his silly haircuts and absolute need to look ridiculous. and i mean, he can’t even watch zombieland without cringing because it’s “too scary” and he’ll “get nightmares” – how fucking cute is that?

he works as cook for a vegan restaurant… and he wears COSTUMES to work. one morning he threw on black sweat pants, skate shoes, and a t-shirt. the following day he put on black skinny jeans, a brown dress shirt & tie, with work boots. this morning, he threw on blue jeans, a baseball jersey (immediately changed it for a DIFFERENT baseball jersey), and white shoes.

he has wardrobe A.D.D., and watching him dress himself is one of my favourite parts of the day. this GROWN MAN, who acts like the funniest kid i’ve ever met, has me totally smitten.

he sends me text messages with quotes from forgetting sarah marshall, he actually giggles when i kiss his neck, he holds my hand when the roads are too slippery, he actually laughs out loud when i make jokes about meryl streep.